


Dido (Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell)

by mayseriouslyunusual



Series: These were three housemaids who were particular favourites of Childermass [1]
Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Gen, but it is threatened, please note that rape doesn't actually happen, so I thought I'd put the warning just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 09:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4298745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayseriouslyunusual/pseuds/mayseriouslyunusual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fic about the servants of Hanover Square, and Childermass defending a lady's honour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dido (Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell)

**Author's Note:**

> In chapter 63, 'The first shall bury his heart in a dark wood beneath the snow, yet still feel it's ache.' The following is said:
> 
> "Lucas, tell Lucy, Hannah, and Dido that I said goodbye and wished them well - and good, obedient husbands when they want them." (These were three housemaids who were particular favourites of Childermass).
> 
> I wondered why Childermass, who does not form human connection easily, should care so much for these girls. So this is Dido's story.

“Dido! Dido!” said Lucy, as she hurried into the back kitchen, where Dido was just finishing the washing up.

“What is it?” Dido said, as she set the last plate in the drying rack.

“Mr Childermass is back!”

“Oh, oh!” Dido hurriedly rolled down her sleeves, buttoning them at the cuff, then she consulted Lucy about the rest of her appearance. “Is me apron straight? What about me hair? Is it all under me cap?”

“Yes, yes. You look fine,” said Lucy impatiently, beckoning her friend to come.

 

They arrived in the main kitchen just as Mr Childermass himself did, though by a different door. Dido smoothly took the coat he had just shed, before even Mr Lucas could attend to the task.

“If I may be so bold as to ask, was your journey alreet, sir?” she said, “You were gone ever such a long time.” It was often that Mr Norrell sent Mr Childermass out on errands, but they rarely took more than a week. This time he had been gone for two and a half.

“I had some trouble at an inn near Shoreditch, but other than that my journey was uneventful, thank you, Dido.” Mr Childermass passed his battered top hat to Lucy. “If you will excuse me, ladies, I must report to my master.” And with that, he left again, trailed by Mr Lucas, who was fussing over the state of Mr Childermass’ boots. The two girls were left alone in the kitchen, and as soon as the door banged closed, Dido turned to Lucy.

“What sort of trouble do you think it was? Oh, I bet it were summat heroic and romantic, like a bar brawl.”

Lucy looked doubtful. “I would not call a bar brawl heroic _or_ romantic.”

“Oh, well, I don’t give a stuff about your opinion. It was bound to be heroic and romantic if _he_ was involved.” Dido turned to look at the closed door, and sighed.

“I still think Mr Davey is better looking; but granted, Mr Childermass is nice, in a rugged sort of way,” said Lucy.

“Rugged is good! It makes him all mysterious.”

Lucy looked thoughtful. “How old do you think he is? He must be more than twice our age.”

“Really?” said Dido, incredulously, “You think him older than thirty?”

“Closer to forty, I’d say.”

“Hm.” Dido sniffed. “I think you do him a disservice.” She snatched the hat from Lucy’s hand, and went to hang up both it and the coat.

 

That evening, when the servants sat down for their evening meal, Dido found that it was her and Lucy’s turn to serve (it was customary for the lower servants to serve the more senior ones before sitting down to their own supper). Though Dido normally found this a boring task, she was glad it fell to her tonight, for it would give her a chance to hear more of Mr Childermass’ journey. To her disappointment, though, Mr Childermass ate quietly, and when Mr Lucas ventured to ask him of his trip, he merely smiled and said nothing. It was most frustrating. Dido did observe, though, a small abrasion on Mr Childermass’ chin, and a few more on his knuckles.

“I would say it was a bar fight,” she whispered to Lucy, as she pointed these injuries out to her.

“It could have been any fight, not just-”

But Lucy was interrupted by a reprimand from Mr Lucas, telling them to get back to their work. They bobbed their heads, and attended once more to their task, though Dido kept sneaking sidelong glances at Mr Childermass.

 

That night, as Dido lay in her small attic bedroom, she contemplated the mysterious nature of Mr Norrell’s most trusted servant. Mr Childermass was not quite a butler, but neither was he quite a steward. The more Dido thought about it, the more she realised how little she actually knew about Mr Childermass. When he was at Hanover Square, he could best be described as Mr Norrell’s assistant, but when he was away, she had no clue what he did. She turned on her side, and had decided to put the thoughts away to allow herself to sleep, when the door creaked open. Dido looked up. Framed in the doorway was James, the newest and most junior footman. He was eighteen, three years her elder, and had a foot and a half of height on her; which, along with his surly manner, contrived to make him quite intimidating. Dido cautiously got out of bed to go and meet him, as it was forbidden for him, being male, to actually enter her room.

Yet this he did, pushing Dido against the wall, and bringing his face far closer to hers than she was comfortable with.

“J-james, what are you doing?” she quavered, turning away. He gave her no answer, but grabbed her face roughly and turned it back towards him. Then, horribly, he planted a kiss on her mouth, not even asking beforehand. Dido pushed him away, then slapped him as hard as she could.

“Feisty little Sheffield girl, aren’t you?” he said, grinning. He spat blood onto the floor, then came for her again. Dido hesitated a moment, squeezing her eyes shut, before employing a move her father had told her to use only in the direst of circumstances. She brought up her knee with all her strength, slamming it into the tender place between James’ legs. This had a far better effect than the slap, causing James to crumple to the floor with a yell, giving her the opportunity to escape into the hall, which was now full of other servants in various states of undress, roused from their slumber by the commotion. She ran straight to Lucy, who embraced her as she began to cry. James staggered out of Dido’s room, causing an uproar of questions and exclamations. This died down as suddenly as it had begun, with the appearance of Mr Childermass at the other end of the hall. He looked around, quelling the final few sounds, then started towards James, slowly and purposefully. Even in her state of upset, Dido could not fail to notice that Mr Childermass slept only in an old pair of breeches. The sight of his bare chest was very pleasing to the eye, though she now realised that the attraction was purely aesthetic.

Mr Childermass reached James and stopped, looking him up and down.

“What’s the meaning of this, lad?” he asked, an edge of menace to his voice.

“I was only fooling, sir,” said James, and then made an effort to look mournful. “It’s her who should get into trouble. She kneed me in the meat-and-two-veg!”

“Really?” said Mr Childermass, “Miss Dido does not look like she thought you were just fooling.” He turned to her. “What did he do, lass?”

“He- he came in to my room, and… and kissed me,” said Dido, between sobs, “he didn’t ask, sir. I were afraid if I didn’t defend missen, he would’a done more.”

“I was only fooling, sir,” said James, “it’s not my fault if she couldn’t see that.” He tried a placating grin, which proved to be a grave mistake. Mr Childermass gave him a punch to the jaw which sent him sprawling onto the floor.

“You are a liar,” said Mr Childermass, shaking out his fist, “you meant harm to this lady, and now you do not have the courage to admit it. You will gather your things and leave this house. Tonight.”

James scrambled to his feet. “That isn’t fair! Why should you take her word over mine?”

“Very well.” Mr Childermass reached a hand into his pocket, drawing out his Marseilles cards. The other servants, even James, shrank back, but Dido craned to see. Mr Childermass laid out eight of his cards on the floor, and turned them each over, one by one. He studied them for a moment, then looked up. His mouth was thin and drawn.

“The cards tell me what you intended to do. It was not _fooling_ ,” he spat the final word with disgust.

“Those cards are surely no proof at all!” James exclaimed, desperately.

“They are proof enough for me.” Mr Childermass took the front of James’ shirt in his hand, and slammed him against the wall. “You will leave your position, and find another,” he hissed, “I will help you with that, if you like. Lucas and I shall tell all the senior servants we know that you cannot be trusted around the maids, and that you are a liar. You shall be thankful that I will not detail what I learned from my cards. Go.” Mr Childermass released James, who scuttled silently to his room. He returned not ten minutes later, with two small cases, and left with only a single backwards scowl. Mr Childermass stayed in the hall, watching James go, with his arms folded and an unreadable expression upon his face. When he heard the back door click, he sent Mr Davey to go and make sure the door was bolted against re-entry.

He turned to the servants still assembled in the hall. “Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to make it known to you that behaviour such as you have just witnessed from that- I hesitate to say man- will not be tolerated. If you should come to hear of it, you are to report it to me immediately. If you should be subjected to it, I suggest you learn from Miss Dido’s actions how best to defend yourself. Goodnight.” And with that, he returned to his room.

Dido found that she did not want to return to hers just yet, so she gathered her bedding to sleep on Lucy’s floor. Sleep was perhaps not the right term, for she did little of that; she merely tossed and turned, and wondered what Mr Childermass had seen in his cards.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I had to make Dido from Sheffield. My home town!
> 
> Feedback is appreciated!


End file.
